


Living Corpse

by Panic_for_Bucky_Barnes



Category: Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Lets see where this goes, M/M, Murder Husbands, Mutual Pining, NO SPOILERS TO ENDGAME, Protective Steve Rogers, Shit talk about Twilight, This is a SPOILER FREE ZONE, Widowed Bucky (Momentarily), Zombie Steve Rogers, twilight sucks, why did I write this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-01-25 13:15:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18575230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Panic_for_Bucky_Barnes/pseuds/Panic_for_Bucky_Barnes
Summary: Bucky Barnes-Rogers hates the apocalypse. It’s taken everything from him, his family, his home, and his husband- Steve.Steve Barnes-Rogers wakes up. That’s it. He wakes up. He shouldn’t be awake- he should be dead, not a corpse. Oh, but fate has made him into the exact thing that killed him.Bucky and Steve are forced to pick up the pieces of their lives when they re-unite for the first time in two years. But dealing with everything from, guilt, love, and the ever growing feeling of eating Bucky, Steve and Bucky try their best to live life like it once was.And of course they find a string of assholes along the way. Both living and dead.





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

Forks, Washington 2035 

 

 

876 days since the outbreak

 

 

Bucky grinned and fist pumped the air when he caught sight of the flames engulfing the Forks Coffee Shop. His bomb had worked well, setting the nuisance of a café ablaze. Of all the towns in Washington, why did this little town have to be remembered for Twilight? At least now it was “perfectly legal” to bomb café’s based from shitty novels. 

 

 

Technically it wasn’t perfectly legal, there was just no police or government to arrest and prosecute anyone. 

 

 

Bucky smiled and turned his back from the roaring fire. In a few hours, Forks would be burned to the ground, and the fucking corpses would be gone too. 

 

 

Bucky walked aimlessly through the streets of Forks, stopping at a few run-down shops. He occasionally opened the gasoline tank slung over his shoulder and poured the gasoline on the ground, or on a bench, or on whatever he could find. Bucky wanted Forks to be nothing but a memory in the corpses’ minds... if they had memories. Bucky wasn’t sure. Bucky abandoned his gasoline tank once it was empty, leaving it on a bench if someone found it in the ashes of Forks.

 

 

Bucky hadn’t encountered anyone living for almost two years now. At this point in the game, Bucky was sure he was the last living person left. He still did routine checks in towns that he came across before setting the towns ablaze. So far, he’s found only him, himself, and a handy radio that played music from a robot-controlled station. He knew it was robot-controlled because it played the same song repeatedly. 

 

 

At least the song was Bohemian Rhapsody. 

 

 

Setting every town Bucky came across on fire was a safety measure. The damn corpses had a better chance of burning into ash like the town. It wasn’t like there was a cure for their condition anyways. Bucky was positive no one could come back from rotting flesh and missing limbs. 

 

 

But one good thing came out of Forks, Washington. The handy radio was a little old, but it had Bluetooth. He was lucky enough to find a pair of Bluetooth earbuds laying abandoned on store shelves. The best thing about them? They didn’t need to be charged- Bucky didn’t even think that was possible. 

 

 

Bucky pulled out his hand-held radio and turned it on, then set it to the last channel running. In his other hand, an LED on the earbuds flashed blue, then turned white. Bucky assumed that meant they were connected, so he pulled back his long hair and secured the earbuds around his ears. Sure enough, he heard the familiar voice of Freddie Mercury. 

 

 

_Is this the real life? Or is this fantasy? Caught in a landslide..._

 

 

“No escape from reality,” Bucky sang along. “Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see,” Bucky looked up at the grey sky and felt a water drop. He frowned and wiped it off his face. Of course, it was raining, what else did it do in Washington? Snow? Not in Western Washington. 

 

 

“I’m just a poor boy. I need no sympathy,” Bucky caught sight of a corpse walking from the shadows of an alley. He continued to sing as this thing walked along, half of its body on fire- presumably from the bomb Bucky detonated. 

 

 

_Because I’m-_

_  
_

_Easy come_

_  
_

_Easy go_

_  
_

_Little high_

_  
_

_Little low_

_  
_

_Any way the wind blows, doesn’t really matter to me..._

 

 

The corpse caught sight of Bucky and moaned, then it started to shuffle towards him. Bucky smirked and unsheathed the knife at his thigh, getting in fighting stance. 

 

 

_To me._

 

 

Bucky swiped at the air as the corpse inched closer to him, finally lunging for Bucky’s face. Bucky dodged it, stepping to the side and twisting his knife so it plunged into the face of the corpse. 

 

 

Now that he was behind the corpse, Bucky quickly removed the knife from the corpses’ face, before digging it into the corpses’ back. Finally, with the quickest swipe Bucky could muster, he dragged the knife across the back of the corpses’ neck, then kicked its head off. 

 

 

_Mama just killed a man. Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger-_

 

 

“Now he’s dead,” Bucky echoed. “Mama, life has just begun. But now I’ve gone and grown it all away.” Another corpse caught Bucky’s eye. He traded the bloody knife for a handgun and fired between the corpses’ eyes. 

 

 

“Mama ooh-woo. Didn’t mean to make you cry, if I’m not back again this time tomorrow-“ another corpse walked out from the shadows and Bucky fired again. “Carry on, carry on. As if nothing really matters.” 

 

 

More corpses started to show up and gather around Bucky. He took this as his cue to leave. Bucky fired at a few more of the corpses before a plan formed in his mind. 

 

 

_Too late. My time has come, send shivers down my spine, bodies aching all the time. Goodbye everybody, I’ve got to go. Got to leave you all behind and face the truth._

 

 

Bucky unzipped his backpack and quickly pulled out a half-opened bag of gummy bears, and the potassium chlorate he somehow stumbled across. 

 

 

_Mama ooh-woo._

_(Any way the wind blows.)_

_I don’t want to die. But sometimes I wish I’d never been born at all._

Bucky grabbed two paper bowls, a few twigs for kindling, and matches. He put the twigs in one bowl and lit them on fire, then put the potassium chlorate in second bowl and put it on top of the fire. While the potassium heated up, he fired a few more bullets, downing more corpses. Damn, these things were slower than the ones in-

 

Bucky was not going to think about that town.

 

He took a deep breath and emptied the gummy bears into the hot potassium chlorate. Instantly they started to fizz, sugar melting. That was Bucky’s cue to leave. Bucky zipped up his backpack and ran, not looking back.

 

Bucky was maybe five hundred feet from his bomb when it went off. The soundwave knocked him to the ground and his face flushed with heat from the fireball. The ground was becoming slick from rain, thank god his bomb worked in the rain, he would be dead if it didn’t.

 

Bucky stayed on the ground for longer than he wanted, but once the ringing in his ears ceased, he sat up and assessed his handywork.

 

The bomb had done it’s job, vaporizing the corpses, and setting a few of the surrounding buildings on fire. Bucky smiled to himself, then realized his jacket and pants were singed. Bucky staggered to his feet, pulled on his finger-less gloves, and then ran a hand through his hair, a few small chunks fell out- they were burned to a crisp. Bohemian Rhapsody was still somehow playing, earbuds secured tightly around Bucky’s ears.

 

_So, you think you can stone me and spit in my eye? So, you think you can love me and leave me to die? Oh, baby, can’t do this to me baby. Just gotta got out…_

“Just gotta get right outta here,” Bucky breathed. He turned from the explosion and headed east, out of Forks. Bucky walked in total, two more streets, before he saw a sign that said, “City Limits”.

 

_Nothing really matters. Anyone can see. Nothing really matters, nothing really matters, to me._

_(Any way the wind blows.)_

_ Shift. Click. _

__

_ …  …  …  … _

__

_Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality. Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see…_

Bucky sighed, taking one last look at Forks. He would be the last person to ever see this town, before it burned to the ground. Bucky pulled a can of spray paint out of his bag, and on both sides of the city limits sign, he wrote, “Corpse & Twilight free… JB-R 4/23/35”.

 

He smiled smugly before putting the can away. Bucky did a quick stretch, then started the short trek to the jeep he left on the side of the road a few miles up.

 

_I see a silhouette-oh of a man. Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the Fandango? Thunderbolts and lightning. Very, very frightening, me._

_Galileo_

_(Galileo)_

_Galileo_

_(Galileo)_

_Galileo, Figaro_

_Magnifico-_

_Oh!_

_Oh!_

_Oh!_

_Oh!_

_Oh!_

 

 

          The black jeep came into view once Bucky rounded a corner. He fished the keys out of his pocket as he got closer, clicking the unlock, then lock button. He did this for a while until he came to the side of the vehicle, finally unlocking it to get in.

 

          As soon as Bucky’s door was closed, a corpse shuffled out of the forest and onto the road in front of the jeep. Bucky groaned, his shoulders drooping as the thing looked around, confused.

 

          “C’mon, you piece of shit, move!” Bucky honked the horn a few times, which made the corpse jump a little. “I’ll run you over. Don’t make me do it- I don’t want corpse guts on my car.” The corpse just stared at him, before deciding to slowly shuffle towards his jeep and attack it vainly. Bucky sighed and put the car in drive.

 

          “You guys are idiots, fucking idiots!” He said. His foot hit the gas pedal and the jeep lurched forward. The corpse disappeared and an unsatisfactory crunch echoed through the jeep, making Bucky cringe. He didn’t stop to see if the thing was actually “dead,” he just kept driving straight.

 

          About thirty minutes of the petal to the floor, Bucky finally eased up on the gas and pulled over. He was going to have to drive around the Puget Sound, since none of the ferries worked anymore, which would add a day to get to his next place.

 

          Bucky pulled a folded bundle out of his pocket, smoothing it out and unfolding it. First thing, the picture that he didn’t want to see fell into his lap, face up of course. Bucky ignored the photo, pushing it to the floor of the car. His eyes traveled along the paper that came with the photo, it was a list of towns. He found Forks and crossed it off the list, then sighed. Bucky’s mind was wandering, thinking back to when…

 

          Bucky shook his head; he was not going to think about that. His eyes landed on Loon Lake, a town near Spokane, Washington. It wasn’t crossed off, even though it should have been. He hadn’t been to Loon Lake for almost two years, he destroyed the place, along with any memory of his husband.

 

          “Fucking hell, brain! Stop thinking!” Bucky slapped himself across the cheek. His hands shook, blurring the words on the paper. He flung it into the cup holder and held onto the steering wheel, taking slow, deep breaths to calm himself down.

 

_ Shift. Click. _

__

_ …  …  …  … _

__

_Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality. Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see… I’m just a poor boy, I need to sympathy._

 

          Bucky took his hands off the steering wheel, feeling a little better. He grabbed the list from the cup holder and started to neatly fold it up, before he stopped. Bucky looked down next to his feet to see the damn photo. Two smiling faces stared back at him, both unrecognizable five years later. Bucky gently picked the picture up, the shaking in his hands returning.

 

          His husband, Steve, was so happy when the photographer took the picture. They had just gotten married on that day, Bucky remembered how nervous Steve was before the ceremony. Bucky was sure that he’d never seen his husband smile wider than on their wedding day.

 

          Bucky ran a shaky finger along Steve’s cheek, he could almost feel the light stubble under his fingers.

 

          “I’m so sorry, honey,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

 

_Loon Lake, Washington,_ _ April 26th, 2033 _

_“You ready, honey?” Bucky asked. Steve nodded. He treaded over to Bucky, grabbing his husband around the waist and pulling him close._

_“Till the end of the line,” Steve recited. Bucky smirked, pulling his husband in for a quick kiss._

_“Till the end of the line,” Bucky echoed. “God, I love you so much.” Steve stared at Bucky, his expression unreadable. “What?” Bucky cocked his head in confusion. Steve leaned into Bucky’s ear, close enough that his lips brushed over Bucky’s earlobe._

_“I have half the mind to bend you over right here and make you squeal,” Steve whispered in a low voice. Bucky felt heat creep up his face._

_“The corpses might mind,” Bucky chuckled. He pushed his husband away, they had work to do. “But after we do this, you can fuck me raw.” Steve grinned, and grabbed Bucky’s hand._

_“Then let’s got this over with,” Steve said teasingly. He clipped the can of spray paint off of his belt and on the “Welcome to Loon Lake, Washington,” sign, he painted “Zombie free, SB-R + JB-R4/26/33” he then drew a heart around his initials and Bucky’s initials. _

_“I already hate this town,” Bucky said, just as Steve was finished. Steve clipped the spray paint to his belt and caught sight of a corpse coming their way._

_“You want it, or shall I?” Steve asked. Bucky shook his head and grabbed the gun from his holster, not taking a second glance when he shot the corpse in the head._

_“Let’s burn the shit out of this place,” was all Bucky said._

 [~^~}

 

_A few buildings later, Steve came running up to his husband, holding something out for him excitedly._

_“Bucky look what I found!” Bucky looked up from the wiring he was doing. Before this whole corpse mess, he was an electrician, a good electrician. Bucky knew what he was doing when it came to wires, and he knew a few things about chemistry too. He enjoyed chemistry too much, in high school he took chemistry a second time because he liked it so much._

_“What is it?” Steve held a small radio out to Bucky._

_“It still works!” Steve exclaimed. “I already found a station- it’s playing Bohemian Rhapsody right now,” Steve turned the dial and turned up the volume. Sure enough, the end of Bohemian Rhapsody played from the radio’s speakers._

_ Shift. Click.  _

__

_... ... ... ... _

__

_“Huh, well it was playing-“_

_Is this the real life? Or is this fantasy? Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality..._

_“It’s robot controlled, must just play over and over again,” Bucky said. “Now I gotta finish up, love you,” Bucky planted a kiss to the side of Steve’s cheek and turned back to his wiring._

_Steve nodded, he was focused on the radio. Why have one station that only played one song? Were there any other stations that played different songs? Bohemian Rhapsody was great and all, but listening to it over and over again might make Steve go crazy..._

_Steve didn’t realize he was walking back to where he found the radio. He also didn’t see the corpse materialize out of the shadows between two buildings before it was too late._

_“Steve!” Steve looked up at Bucky, his expression full of worry and fear. Steve finally saw the corpse out of the corner of his eye, he screamed as it lunged for him._

_The thing bit at him, at his arms, his legs, his stomach. It clawed at Steve as he wrested with it, trying to get it off of him._

_Steve felt a sharp pain from his abdomen, then a gunshot sounded out, silencing everything and making the corpse go limp. Bucky stared at the corpse, wide-eyed and fearful, his gun was still raised from when he shot the corpse._

_Bucky dropped to Steve’s side, pushing the dead corpse off of his husband’s chest._

_“Steve, what happened? Are you okay?” Bucky’s hands fluttered around Steve, worry showing on his face. Bucky stopped moving and his face grew pale when he lifted Steve’s shirt. “Steve-“ he croaked._

_Steve sat up enough to see over the hem of his shirt. A clean bite mark, just starting to bleed._

_“Steve- I should have-“_

_“No, it’s fine,” Steve grunted, sitting up so he could lean on the building behind him. “It’s my fault.”_

_“I should have shot it sooner-“_

_“Bucky.” Steve’s stern tone made Bucky stop. Tears rimmed Bucky’s eyes, he was really watching his husband die. “What’s done is done. This is not your fault. Now listen to me-“_

_“But Steve.”_

_“Listen! I won’t be around much longer, you need to continue without me, alright?” Tears pricked at Bucky’s eyes. “I don’t want to come back and hurt you, so don’t come back here, you understand?” Bucky nodded solemnly, snapping his mouth shut. He didn’t want to look at Steve._

_Steve groped for his husband, his hand clumsily stroking Bucky’s cheek. A tear slid down Bucky’s cheek, Steve wiped it away._

_“This is the end of the line for me, Buck, but not for you. Be strong, I’ll see you at the end,” Steve said. He pressed a kiss to his husband’s forehead. “I love you.”_

_Before Bucky knew what was going on, Steve pulled out his gun and held it up to his own forehead. Bucky’s head jerked up, alarmed._

_“Steve- no!”_

_Steve pulled the trigger._

_Bohemian Rhapsody played softly in the background as Bucky cried, his husband bleeding out in his lap._

_Steve was dead._

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing Steve felt, was guilt. Which was... odd. He didn’t know what he was guilty for, it took him a moment before everything came back to him.

 

_ “Steve- no!” _

 

** Bucky... Bucky! **

 

He sat up quickly, heart beating rapidly, in a broken beat. That... that must have been a dream. Steve was alive, at least he thought he was alive. When he sat up, a nearby corpse looked toward Steve, and Steve immediately froze. Damnit, he forgot to check his surroundings.

 

He identified the corpse as a female, her red hair was a surprising contrast to the grey sky. It had no cheeks- they looked like they had been blown out, and it’s arms had patches of missing skin. It narrowed it’s eyes at him, finally deciding to shuffle over. Steve backed away as it approached, scared.

 

“You’re new,” Steve didn’t register it’s words for a moment. It then pointed to the side of Steve’s forehead. “He tried to kill you?”

 

Steve’s hand was slow trying to reach his forehead, but once it did, his eyes widened. His fingers felt a bullet hole, right where he fired his gun.

 

“No,” Steve sputtered. “Not possible...” the corpse just smiled at Steve and clumsily sat down next to him.

 

“Corpses aren’t as bad as they seem,” it said. “I’m Natasha.”

 

“I’m freaked out,” Steve said. “I’m in heaven, that’s the only explanation.”

 

“Nope- you’re just a corpse, it takes some getting used to,” Steve felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Natasha must have been lying, he was dead, not a corpse...

 

Natasha sighed and shook her head.

 

“You don’t believe me, do you?” Steve shook his head. Natasha rolled her eyes before fishing a mirror out of the rubble a few inches away. “Take a look.”

 

Steve gasped when he was handed the broken mirror. His blue eyes stood out against the dull veins that were visible through his skin. There was blood splattered around Steve’s lips, and his skin was torn away from his right cheek, showing a few teeth. And of course, there was the bullet hole- blood had ran down the side of Steve’s face, then dried there, staining his skin.

 

“It’s a little shocking at first,” Natasha said. “But you’ll get used to it.” She got up, keeping her gaze towards the distance.

 

“Wh-where am I?”

 

“Loon Lake, Washington,” Natasha responded immediately. “At least, what’s left of it after the fucking humans came and burned it down two years ago.” She then turned to Steve, who was still getting used to being talked to by a corpse- hell, he was still getting used to being a corpse.

 

“The guy who lived must have shot you- it takes a while for someone to become a corpse,” she said. “Jay Bee Are... I’m pretty sure that’s his name. Him and his partner wrote it on the sign right outside of town.” Something inside Steve’s mind was clicking, pieces of the puzzle were being put in place.

 

“... how long ago was this?” Steve asked.

 

“Two years ago, weren’t you listening? God damn, you’re an idiot,” Natasha quipped. “Do you want to see the sign?”

 

“Uh, sure,” Natasha held out her hand for Steve, who took it to swing up onto his feet. He tripped over his own two feet the minute he tried to take a step.

 

“Just shuffle, it’s easier,” Natasha sighed. Shuffling made the walk to the sign longer, but it was worth it if this proved Steve’s theory. 

 

Steve was unsure if this was what happened, but so far this is what he figured out. He and Bucky- Steve was 90% sure Bucky was his husband- had come to the town two years ago. Steve was bitten, so he shot himself in the head- which should have rendered him dead, but somehow he was a corpse. Bucky must have gotten out alive, since Natasha said she saw him visit the town about a few months ago. Steve concluded three things from this whole situation.

 

One, Bucky was alive (hopefully), and he moved on from Steve. 

 

Two, Steve was one of the the people who tried to destroy Loon Lake to rid the world of corpses. 

 

Three, corpses aren’t animistic as the government said, and you can’t kill a corpse by shooting them in the head. 

 

Thanks for the lies, government. Maybe it’s a good thing you got overrun by dead people. 

 

Of all of these realizations, the first one hurt Steve the most. He couldn’t really remember Bucky that well, but he remembered good times with him. After a few minutes of thought, Steve concluded that yes, they were husbands- the memory of their wedding and posing for a photo proved that. 

 

So if Bucky- Steve’s husband- moved on, then he must not care about Steve anymore. Which was like a bullet to Steve’s brain (Haha, get it?). 

 

“Here we are,” a walk that should have taken five minutes took ten minutes when shuffling. Natasha pointed to the spray-painted sign, and Steve’s eyes grew wide. It looked different when he painted it...

 

It took Steve longer than it should have to figure out that Bucky had painted over Steve’s initials with black paint, filling in Steve’s half of the heart he drew around their names.

 

Natasha then pointed to a wooden plank laying at the foot of the sign. It chilled Steve to the bone when he read what the plank said. 

** Steven Grant Barnes-Rogers **

** July 4th, 1998- April 26th, 2033 **

** I love you till the end of the line **

 

“Natasha, there’s something I need to say,” Steve kept his eyes on the plank, re-reading every word. 

 

“You’re Steve Barnes-Rogers, yeah- I put that together,” Natasha said. Steve snapped his eyes up to meet Natasha’s gaze.

 

“How-?”

 

“I think I was a spy at one point, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out with the way you’re looking at that tombstone,” Natasha declared. Steve states at Natasha. “And he’s coming back. Jay Bee Are, he’s coming back here in a few days,” she added. 

 

“Why would you tell me this?” Steve asked. Natasha smacked Steve upside the head. 

 

“Because, you idiot- you can see him. I’m assuming Jay Bee Are is your friend or something.”

 

“Husband, actually. And his name is Bucky.”

 

“Even better,” Natasha deadpanned. “Anyways, what I’m saying, is that you should reunite with your husband after all this time.” Natasha crosses her arms in an effort to intimidate Steve. 

 

“Natasha,” Steve said sternly. He put his hand on her forearm. “My husband has been hunting and killing corpses without me for two years, how do you think he’d react if I- his husband- came back to life?” 

 

“He’d kiss you?” Natasha supplied quietly, hopeful. 

 

“He’d shoot me.” 

 

“He’d shoot you, yeah,” Natasha echoed. “But you can still try! You have a few days before he comes back.” 

 

“Comes back? Natasha, Bucky’s probably moved on. Why would he come back for me?” 

 

“He came back last year- stayed in a house off Main, and he came back for your birthday, and for what I think was your wedding anniversary,” Natasha said. “I don’t think he’s moved on.”

 

“Are- are you stalking my husband?” Steve asked tentatively. 

 

“Oh please, you didn’t even know you had a husband a few minutes ago.” 

 

“It was coming back to me!” Steve said. “But you know an awful lot about my husband.” 

 

“Okay, maybe I do stalk him,” Natasha admitted. “But I didn’t know he was married- and he’s kind of cute.” Steve gave Natasha the evil eye. 

 

“If you guys ever look into a threesome...” 

 

“Natasha,” Steve said sternly. 

 

“Just putting it out there,” Natasha said. Steve sighed and put his hands on his hips. They were silent for a minute or two, before Steve spoke. 

 

“Do you guys have a radio? I know a channel that plays Bohemian Rhapsody.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they reunite! 
> 
> (And it hurts, oh joy)
> 
> This will stay an Endgame spoiler free zone FOREVER! Kudos and comments make my day, don't be afraid to comment! Honestly comments are what motivates me to keep writing so

April 25th, 2035 

  

Loon Lake was only five miles away, and with every passing second, Bucky got more anxious. When Bucky passed through Ellensburg- the town he lived in with Steve- he made the executive decision to put the photo of him and Steve on the dashboard, because why not. 

  

Bucky reached for the radio dial. He had just fixed the radio in the Jeep and was happy to report that it worked. He turned it to the one station he knew was going and listened into Bohemian Rhapsody. 

  

_-Stone me and spit in my eye? So, you think you can love me and leave me to die? Oh, baby, can’t do this to me baby. Just gotta get out, just gotta get right outta here._

 

_Oh, yeah_

 

_Oh, yeah_

 

 _Nothing really matters, anyone can see-_  

  

“Nothing really matters. Nothing really matters, to me.” 

  

 _(Any way the wind blows)_  

  

 _Shift. Click._  

  

Bucky counted the cycles in his mind as they played over the radio. He always knew there would be four cycles. 

  

 _..._  

  

One. 

  

 _..._  

  

Two. 

  

 _..._  

  

Three... 

 

 

 

Three...? 

  

Where was the fourth cycle? 

  

A song came on the radio, Bucky’s foot came down on the brake, jolting the Jeep to an abrupt stop. 

  

This wasn’t Bohemian Rhapsody. 

  

_Another head hangs lowly, child is slowly taken. And the violence caused such silence, who are we mistaken?_

  

“What the fuck?” Bucky breathed. He recognized the song immediately from his high school days. “Of course, it’s Zombie.” 

 

_But you see, it’s not me. It’s not my family. In your head, in your head, they are fighting._

 

_With their tanks, and their bombs, and their bombs, and their guns. In your head, in your head, they are crying._

 

_In your head._

 

_In your head._

 

_Zombie, zombie, zom-_

  

Bucky turned the radio off and sat back in his seat, defeated. It’s just a glitch, Bucky told himself. Bucky stared at the radio, unmoving, before turning it back on again. 

  

_-Old thing, since 1916. In your head, in your head, they’re still fighting._

  

Bucky turned the radio off again. 

  

“Hopefully this is just a glitch, and it will go back to Bohemian Rhapsody once the song is over,” Bucky wished to himself. Bucky was only a mile and a half to Loon Lake anyways, he decided to get out and walk the rest of the way. 

  

He got out and grabbed his backpack from the backseat, slamming the door and locking the Jeep. Bucky fished the hand-held radio out of his backpack and held it like a smartphone, configuring it to the station that should play Bohemian Rhapsody. 

  

Bucky was a few feet from the Jeep when he stopped in his tracks. He turned on his heels, going back to the Jeep, unlocking it, and grabbing the photo of him and Steve from the dashboard. Finally, Bucky made his way to town. 

  

Bucky planned to stay one night in a half- burned, but safe, house near Main Street. He’s stayed in it before, for Steve’s birthday, for their wedding anniversary. 

  

Bucky wasn’t the best at moving on. 

  

The house reminded Bucky of the Blackwood’s house from We Have Always Lived In The Castle, minus the fact that the house was smack dab in the middle of town. And the gate was smaller, it was just a tiny black fence that stood maybe mid-stomach height. 

  

The door was unlocked (as always). Once Bucky was inside, he blocked the front door with the table in the hallway. 

  

The windows were boarded up, but slivers of light often shone through the hastily nailed planks. Bucky liked this house out of all he stayed at, because this one had a room between the back door and the garage. It gave Bucky two different points of exit in case anything broke in. 

  

He was used to the bedroom by now, at one-point Bucky stayed in the house for an entire month. He knew which drawers still worked, which hangers to use, and that the sink in the bathroom down the hall had no running water. 

  

Bucky sighed and set his bag down next to the bed, flopping down onto it. A layer of dust billowed up, making Bucky cough. Once the dust settled again, Bucky was fighting sleep. 

  

To combat the ever growing feeling of sleep, Bucky turned the radio back on again. Luckily, he caught it between songs. Bucky hoped the channel was playing Bohemian Rhapsody. 

  

 _Shift. Click._  

  

 _... ... ..._  

 

_Another head hangs lowly, child is slowly taken. And the violence, caused such silence. Who are we mistaken?_

 

_But you s-_

  

Bucky turned the radio off. It was playing a different song, repeatedly. That could mean two things. One of those was more concerning than the other. 

  

One, the robot was programmed to change songs after a certain amount of time. 

  

Two, a human was now running the station, and that song was their call for help. 

  

Bucky thought about it, and finally concluded that the first possibility was most likely correct. If someone was calling for help, then they would have sent out a distress message alerting people of their location. Sure, Bucky hasn’t been listening to the station long enough hear a distress signal- for all he knew, he missed it- but there was something else that proved the first theory. In between songs, the cycling went from four times, to three. Most likely indicating that the station was programmed to change songs after a long period of time, and the station had four songs in the lineup, now three songs. 

  

This satisfied Bucky enough that he let himself sleep, not caring if it was in the middle of the day. 

  

Before Bucky drifted off, he turned on the radio. 

  

Only a few notes played before Bucky was out like a light, snoring softly in the bed. 

  

[~^~]

  

Steve’s breath hitched in his throat when Natasha said she spotted him just outside of town. She mentioned that she knew where he was staying and offered to take Steve there. 

  

In a flurry of excitement, Steve followed Natasha as she led him to a building with a clear view of an old townhouse in the middle of town. 

  

“He’s coming, be quiet,” Natasha said to Steve, before she turned her back to watch him. 

  

And there he was. 

  

In flesh and blood.   

  

 **Bucky.**  

  

Natasha snacked Steve’s arm and brought a finger to her pale lips. 

  

“You said that out loud,” she whispered. 

  

“Sorry,” Steve whispered back. Bucky looked so good, almost better that Steve remembered. His hair was still shoulder length, on one side it was tucked behind his ear, and on the other Bucky let his hair hang loosely. His hoodie and jeans were stained with blood, and tears littered the fabric. Steve spotted the ice blue eyes he knew so well, they tracked the area around Bucky, if only they looked over at Steve. 

  

Bucky stopped at the gate, quickly glanced around, then went inside, not looking back. About thirty seconds after Bucky went inside, Steve and Natasha came out of their hiding spot. 

  

“Go get your boy,” she said. Steve gaped at her, his eyes going from the house to Natasha. 

  

“You’re insane- he’ll shoot me,” Steve protested. 

  

“You don’t know that,” Natasha said. 

  

“Looking like this,” Steve gestured to himself. “He will.” Natasha clicked her tongue and shook her head. 

  

“If he loves you, then he’ll accept you like this,” Natasha said. Steve sighed, he pinched the bridge of his nose, annoyed. 

  

“That’s not what I meant. It just might... ease the shock of me being a corpse if I didn’t look dead,” Steve explained. 

  

“So... you want to look less dead, basically,” Natasha said. 

  

“Yes! Exactly,” Steve smiled a little. “And because I can’t look undead, I suggest we just don’t-“ 

  

“Cool, I’ll do your makeup...” Natasha grabbed Steve’s wrist and towed him away from the house. 

  

[~^~]

  

This was probably the best Natasha was going to get with the whole “undead” look. A few blue veins showed through the concealer on Steve’s face, and the blood on Steve’s lips turned out to stain them an embarrassing red color. There wasn’t much Natasha could do with the bullet hole- other than cover it with a baseball hat, and for the bags under his eyes she gave him a pair of glasses. When she was done, it looked like Steve was just tired, not dead, which was a big improvement. 

  

“Oh, and I forgot to tell you. There’s this weird thing where, only loved ones can understand what a corpse is saying,” Natasha said. “Your husband won’t be able to tell what I’m saying, but he should understand you.” 

  

“Good to know,” Steve acknowledged. 

  

“There’s also something called Zombie Instinct. It’ll make you want to eat your husband, basically. If you feel this, just take a walk and stay away from him, you don’t want to lose control around someone living- trust me,” Natasha added. “Now go, be gay. I’ll watch while being a straight, dead female.” 

  

“Thanks, Nat,” Steve deadpanned. Natasha walked him to the gate of the townhouse. Steve tentatively opened the gate, then looked back at Natasha, who had somehow moved across the street without Steve noticing. 

  

She gave him a thumbs up, then made a motion with her hands to go inside. 

  

Steve tried the front door, which didn’t budge. He tried to open it again before remembering that Bucky liked to block off one door, and leave another, less assuming door, open for escape. Steve made his way to the back of the house. 

  

Around the back of the house, Steve spotted a back door, and a bedroom window next to it. Carefully and quietly, Steve looked into the window, trying to see past the boards someone put on the windows. He picked up a few notes of a song that sounded all too familiar to Steve. 

  

_Zombie, zombie, zombie, ei, ei, ei, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, ei, ei-_

 

Of course, Bucky found a radio station playing the song, Zombie. It was his favorite song in high school. 

  

Steve spotted Bucky asleep on the bed, which made his heart jump. Bucky looked so peaceful asleep on the bed. Steve felt he strong urge to climb into the bed with his husband and eat him. 

  

Wait. 

  

Why did Steve want to eat him? 

  

Zombie instinct, maybe? 

  

Yes. Zombie instinct. Zombie instinct was going to be a bitch, Steve could tell. 

  

He sucked in a breath, burying the thought of eating his husband deep in his mind, then walked to the back door and opened it. 

  

When Steve was inside, he went straight to the bedroom Bucky was in and stood there, watching Bucky sleep. 

  

The urge to eat Bucky came back, and Steve has to turn away from acting on that instinct. He walked out of the bedroom and down the hall, evening his breathing and clearing his mind. 

  

Steve came back to the bedroom, and this time stood at the doorframe. Steve smiled and shook his head after another couple minutes of watching Bucky sleep. Steve felt confident he had the Zombie instinct thing in check, at least for now. 

  

He strode over to the radio and shut it off, then sat at the side of the bed. Bucky still slept soundly; his even breaths were calming for Steve. 

  

Steve couldn’t help himself but run a hand through Bucky’s hair. Smoothing it out so the dark chocolate brown cascaded around Bucky’s shoulders. 

  

Steve felt confident enough to wake his husband, so that’s what he did. 

  

“Bucky,” Steve lightly pushed at Bucky’s shoulder. “Wake up, honey,” Steve said gently.   

  

“Wake up, Bucky...”   

  

[~^~]

  

“Wake up Bucky...” Bucky’s eyes shot open. And there was Steve, sitting at the side of the bed, hand of Bucky’s shoulder. 

  

Reality came crashing back to Bucky. Steve was dead. Steve was dead!   

  

Then that’s not Steve.   

  

Bucky hissed and pulled back; he fell off the bed onto the floor with a loud thunk. A soft chuckle reached his ears, Bucky assumed it was the Steve-looking person. Luckily, Bucky landed near his backpack. Bucky fished a gun out of the bag and then popped up from the side of the bed, aiming the gun at someone who looked too Steve-like to be true. 

  

“Who are you,” Bucky snarled.  ~~Steve~~  the person put his hands up on defense, confusion resting on his face.   

 

“Buck...” 

 

 “Who are you?!” Bucky exclaimed. The person sighed, his hands going down to his side.    

“I’m Steve. Your husband, remem- “ 

 

“No, you’re not. My husband’s dead,” Bucky stated. His husband was dead, Bucky watched him pull the trigger, Bucky remembered holding his husband’s corpse in his arms. “My husband’s dead,” Bucky echoed. The gun wavered from its position on Steve, wheels turning in Bucky’s head.   

“Bucky, I’m right here...”  

 

“You’re dead,” the gun was back on Steve, genuine fear in Bucky’s eyes. “You’re Steve, but you’re a corpse.” 

  

Steve sighed, looking down at his feet. This was going to be so  _fun,_ explaining the whole corpse situation to Bucky when Steve barely understood it. 

  

“Alright, fine. You figured it out,” Steve sighed. “I’m a corpse. But I’m not going to hurt you.” The gun still stayed on Steve, Bucky’s hand shaking. 

  

“Why haven’t you killed me yet?” There was an edge in Bucky’s voice that made Steve’s heart break. 

  

“Because I don’t want to,” Steve’s voice was just above a whisper.   

  

“Th-the bullet. You shot yourself- in the head. You shouldn’t be a corpse,” Bucky stated.   

  

“You’re right. I shouldn’t be here, but I am,” Steve agreed. Bucky hesitated, the gun drifting on and off its target.   

 

“Prove that it’s you,” Bucky said. Steve though for a moment before moving his hand to take off the hat. Bucky tensed when he moved, which made Steve stop moving for a second. 

 

“I’m just removing my hat,” Steve said slowly. Bucky nodded, a quick jerky motion that someone might have missed if they didn’t know Bucky. Steve grabbed the bill of the baseball hat and pulled it off his head, showing the bullet hole on this side of his forehead. Bucky emitted a small gasp, Steve felt the strong urge to cover his head again, which was a totally new feeling. Steve remembered feeling completely comfortable around his husband. 

 

“That proves nothing,” Bucky said, composing himself quickly. Steve put the cap on the bed, removing the glasses as well and laying them next to the hat. “It just proves you’re a corpse.”  

 

Steve sighed softly, he was right. No matter what he did to prove that he was Steve to Bucky, Bucky would just shoot him. Bucky has moved on.

 

“This is crazy. Crazy,” Bucky muttered, shaking his head. “Show me the bite mark.”

 

“ _Show me the bite mark.”_

 

**_“Show me the bite mark.”_ **

 

Steve lost himself in his thoughts, his next few actions something he didn’t even think about. Before Steve knew what he was doing, he was lunging for Bucky, teeth bared and ready to attack.

 

Bucky let out a noise of surprise and distress, firing a few bullets at Steve as he hopped over the bed mindlessly. Bucky backed away, his back running into the wall of the bedroom.

 

“Steve-?”

 

Steve came to his senses, and for a brief moment he was out of the mindless fog that had taken hold of him. For that moment, Steve witnessed a fear on his husband’s face that he never wanted to see. Steve crumpled up, he held his head in his hands and shook violently.

 

“Get away from me,” Steve grunted. “Please.” Bucky’s hands hovered around Steve’s quivering form.

 

“I don’t want to hurt you!” Steve cried. Steve shook with violent sobs that tore through his body. “Get away!”

 

Steve felt a hand lightly touch his back, rubbing small, gentle circles. Bucky squatted down, getting on Steve’s level. His hand moved from Steve’s back to his jaw, where Bucky slowly tilted Steve’s face up to look at him.

 

Steele blue eyes searched Steve’s face, his eyes, his soul. Steve felt Bucky peering into his soul, and how Steve wanted to push Bucky away, but at the same time hold him close. He hoped Bucky could feel that he was Steve, he was Steve and no one else.

 

“Bucky, you need to stay away from me,” Steve said. Bucky didn’t respond. “I’m not safe. This was stupid, I shouldn’t have come back-“

 

“Steve,” Bucky said sternly. Steve shut his mouth with an audible click. “I don’t care if you’re dead, alive, or in between. I still love you all the same. And was this stupid of you to come here? Yes, it was- I could have hurt you, much like you can hurt me now. Which makes us even... actually I think I did shoot you, so we’re not exactly even right now, but we’ll get there. But right now, we’re together, for the first time in two years we’re together again. And I’m grateful to have you here, always.”

 

Steve stared at his husband, he did not expect Bucky to say, well... any of that.

 

“Wait, you shot me?” Steve sat back on his knees and inspected his body, and sure enough he found blood running down his pant leg from a bullet lodged in his upper thigh. “Is it bad that I didn’t notice?” Steve asked, looking up at Bucky. Bucky didn’t know what to say, so he just nodded, a loss for words.

 

“Steve?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“If you’re a corpse, why don’t you look dead?” Bucky genuinely asked. Steve sighed, taking the hem of his shirt and bringing it up to his face so he could wipe Natasha’s make-up off. “Why did you cover up?” Bucky asked gently.

 

“I don’t know. I guess I thought I’d ease you into the idea of me being a corpse,” Steve sighed. “But that backfired, so…” Steve trailed off. Bucky sat down in front of Steve, crossing his legs. He leaned forward and reached a hand out, catching Steve by surprise when he ran his fingers along Steve’s jawline. Bucky traced Steve’s face, it was muscle memory at this point. When Bucky’s fingers reached Steve’s lips, his eyes flicked to Steve’s, catching them for a second, making Bucky smirk.

 

“I missed seeing your beautiful face,” Bucky half-whispered. Steve smiled sadly, gently grabbing Bucky’s hand and moving it away from him. Bucky’s hand wiggled out of Steve’s, he pressed his hand on Steve’s chest, on his heart. “I missed you.”

 

Steve’s sad smile stayed on his face. His hand went to Bucky’s again, pulling away from his heart. Steve took a sad breath, Bucky sensed his hand slipping away. Bucky tightened his grip; his other hand went under Steve’s chin. Bucky’s eyes met Steve’s.

 

“Please don’t let go.”

 

“I won’t.” Steve said.

 

“I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments help get the next chapter written...


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: GRAPHIC DETAIL OF AN AMPUTATION
> 
> And a lot of angst. There will be a mini break from the angst- then the angst will come back. So be warned!

Steve wished everything went back to normal after that. Oh, but of course, it didn’t.

   


Fucking Zombie Instinct had to ruin everything.

   


And the song Zombie got annoying quick. But it was better than nothing, so Steve didn’t complain. It still left him in a  pissy  mood after listening to the song for more than five times. Steve’s requested a different station so many times.

   


“I’m trying, honey,” Bucky would say. “Just be patient,” Bucky would squeeze Steve’s hand. Bucky hasn’t stopped touching Steve since he came back. More than once Bucky’s tried for a kiss, but Steve always shut that down, the idea of hurting Bucky looming in his mind.

   


Steve found himself on many walks by himself, often to cool down and try to get the Zombie Instinct thing in check. He’d find Natasha fora brief visit, every time Steve saw her she was introducing him to another  corpse \- person. Most people didn’t like to be called corpses, to which Steve agreed.

   


He was living a gruesome double life these days. One part of Steve was with Bucky, that part wanted to just sleep with Bucky again. Kiss him like before, hell- even adopt a kid. The other part of him was the corpse part. That part made Steve stay away, made him remember in the dead of night that he was dead- just a byproduct of a virus that wiped out almost all of the human race. That part of him kept Bucky away from danger- and he was dangerous.

   


This always ended with a bad habit of solitude from everyone. Steve would hole up in the same room in the house and just stay there for days, not eating or sleeping. He was dead after all- not like that stuff mattered.

   


Bucky was too busy staying alive to notice, which Steve as alright with. When Steve went into his spirals, he didn’t want to hurt Bucky if he suddenly came into the room to chew Steve out for the habit.

   


Natasha DID notice, but she just thought Steve was spending time with Bucky. She rarely said anything about Steve’s very fucked up relationship with a living and a dead person, and when she did say something, she’d say that they were cute together or some shit. Steve was also glad that she didn’t notice his habit, he was positive that she would find a way to talk to Bucky so  both  could chew him out.

   


He had enough time on his hands to think through this. He also had enough time on his hands to realize that Bucky had stayed in the house for two months now. Which was not normal, at all .  And he might have Hand enough time to realize that Bucky was staying out because of him. Bucky was getting in danger by staying in one spot- because of him.

   


This wasn’t safe. This wasn’t  _ right-  _ Bucky could find himself in serious danger of he stayed any longer. And it could be worse if Bucky insisted that Steve come with him.

   


“Stevie?” Steve heard Bucky’s footsteps. “Are you up here?” Okay, so maybe Steve had been holed up in the same room for a week or so, but that was his problem. And yeah, Bucky may have thought that Steve had just been “busy” the entire time (Steve found it very useful that he could still write notes while dead) and he just never checked up on him.

   


That was a lie, Bucky checked on him every day. Steve just hid under the bed when he heard Bucky’s footsteps. Like right now, Steve was crawling under the bed as fast as he could.

   


And damn, Bucky was fast today. Just as Steve got under the bed, Bucky gently pushed the door open.

   


“Steve?” Bucky stepped inside the room. He shut the door behind him and sat down on the bed, hanging his feet- coincidentally...? - right in front of Steve. Steve sucked in a quiet breath, he felt the Zombie Instinct flare up, the want of tearing into Bucky’s ankles overpowering everything but his common sense.

   


“I know you’re in here Steve. It’s been a week, please come out,” Bucky said bluntly. Steve jolted upright- and hit his head on the bed frame above him. Bucky was crouched on his knees, in an instant. He stared at Steve and scowled at him for longer than Steve liked, before reaching his hand under.

   


“C’mon mister. We need to talk.”

   


[~^~]

   


Steve sat quietly, avoiding his husband’s glare from across the table. A stack of pancakes on the table steamed, freshly made.

   


“You going to say anything?” Bucky finally asked, arms crossed. Steve shook his head minutely. Bucky huffed and leaned forward, taking a few pancakes off the stack and setting them on a plate.

   


“Alright then. I’ll start,” Bucky’s angry tone made Steve wince. He slid the plate towards Steve, along with a fork. “Why the hell were you hiding under the bed?”

   


Steve  shrugged ;  his gaze averted to his folded hands in his lap. The blue veins showing through his translucent skin made him sick.

   


“Alright, fine. When have you eaten last? And be honest- I’m not in the mood for any more of your bullshit!”

   


“Nine days,” Steve said quickly, automatically. Bucky sighed and slapped his forehead.

   


“Eat the fucking pancakes. You need food.”

   


“ No ,  I don’t!” Steve sprang up from his seat. Steve’s outburst surprised Bucky, making him jump in his seat. “I’m dead, Bucky. I don’t need food to live if I’m not even living!”

   


“Bull! Shit!” Bucky also got up, the chair squeaking on the floor. “Your friend Natasha eats! Why is that no different?!” Steve was taken aback by Bucky’s comment. “Yeah, you heard me. I talked with your friend when she came around here today.” Steve opened his mouth, but Bucky held up his index finger. “And Rogers, she is worried about you! She has been wondering where you’ve been  _ for the past  _ _ week. _ So ,  don’t come at me with the ‘I’ve been out with Natasha’  bullfuck , because I know it’s a lie!”

   


Steve stared at his husband, searching his face. All Steve saw was anger, Bucky’s steel blue eyes dark with fury. Something inside Steve broke, then in an instant the stone wall inside him was back, his emotions contained once again. Within a second, Bucky’s face softened completely, lines of worry etched into his expression. All Steve could think was that he caused those lines.

   


“Talk to me Stevie. We can get through this together if we just talk,” Bucky said gently. He moved around the table to Steve, where he placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Please talk to me honey.”

   


Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand and pulled it away from his shoulder.

   


“You need to leave,” Steve said.

   


“Wh- w- but why?”

   


“It’s the only way I can protect you,” Steve released Bucky’s hand, which dropped to Bucky’s side.

   


“Not this again, Rogers,” Bucky groaned. “I feel perfectly safe around you-“

   


“You need to leave,” Steve repeated. “Tonight.”

   


“No. I’m not leaving you,” Bucky said, grabbing Steve’s hand. Steve wriggled out of Bucky’s grasp.

   


“Bucky, you have to - “

   


“Steve, listen to me! I’m not leaving!”

   


“Bucky - “

   


“I’m staying right here!”

   


“B - “

   


“Stop it Steve!” Bucky made a grab with his left hand, getting a strong hold on Steve’s hand. “I’m not leaving you! Don’t think for a second that I’m going to-“

   


The stone wall inside Steve broke again. But this time it was the wall holding back the Zombie Instinct.

   


The next thing Steve remembered was the distinct taste of Bucky’s blood.

   


His hand was still in Bucky’s grasp, but his hand had grown cold and limp. Steve’s eyes popped open, fearing the worst.

   


He was met with a more gruesome sight. Bucky’s entire left arm, from the middle bicep down, was in his hand. Steve gagged at the sight of a clean bite mark on the forearm area.

   


“No -“Steve  breathed. The blood taste was too much, without thinking, Steve twisted around and spit, only to see red exit his mouth. That made him gag harder.

   


Steve unclasped his hand from the severed one. His fingers brushed over the wedding ring still on the ring finger. Steve gently slid the ring off and cradled it like a baby.

   


He looked around, and for the first time realized that he was alone.

[~^~]

 

_ September 5th, 2030 _

   


_ Bucky sucked in a breath, making sure his tuxedo was smoothed. Steve patted Bucky’s arm, which got Bucky to look up and smile at his fiancée. _

   


_ Steve was going to be more than Bucky’s fiancée in a few moments. _

   


_ “How are you feeling?” Steve asked. Bucky’s gaze moved to the closed double doors that lead into the ceremony room of the chapel they picked for the wedding. He knew that so many people were on t _ _ he _ _  other side of the door. _

   


_ “Nervous. But I’ve never been more excited in my life,” Bucky smiled. “How are you doing?” _

   


_ Steve smiled and let go of Bucky, shaking himself out before grabbing Bucky’s arm again. _

   


_ “I can’t wait till you’re officially my husband,” Steve beamed. “My husband,” Steve echoed with a smile. _

   


 _“My husband,” Bucky echoed back. He ran his hand along Steve’s jaw. Just then, Bucky’s pocket buzzed with a text message._    


   


_ Bucky pulled out his phone and showed the screen to Steve. A text from his sister gave the all-clear for them to enter and start the ceremony. _

   


_ “C’mon jerk, let’s get married,” Steve said. He put his hand on one of the double doors. _

   


_ “Punk,” Bucky smirked, he put his hand on the other door, and together they pushed them open. _

   


[~^~]

   


Bucky hated himself for doing it. But it was the only way he could stop the infection from taking over everything.

   


He was very lucky the pan he used for the pancakes was still hot, he was going to have to cauterize a big-ass wound.

   


Bucky looked over at his husband, who was on the floor, passed out from the chair Bucky broke over his head. In his hand was Bucky’s arm- his now severed arm. Bucky knee it’s be hell for Steve when he woke up, but Steve was right.

   


Bucky had to leave.

   


He didn’t know if that was decided when Steve lunged for him, or when Steve bit him, but it was decided.

   


The thing was, Bucky didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to pretend like none of this ever happened, he didn’t want to forget that his husband is partially alive and still in love with him.

   


“Fucking hell,” Bucky breathed. He’d have to cauterize the stump soon, or he’d bleed out.

   


Then again, Bucky was the one who cut off his own arm in an attempt to keep the virus from spreading. He was surprised that he hasn’t passed out from the pain yet.

   


Bucky took a deep breath, then pushed the hot back of the pan into the stump, making him scream in pain. He wasn’t sure if this was the right thing to do, but he knew that this is how Civil War doctors treated amputations. Which most likely, was not the right thing to do.

   


He kept the pan on the stump until it stopped sizzling and burning. Bucky was surprised when he was able to pull the pan off of his residual limb without it sticking to the burnt flesh. He quickly inspected what the heat had done, then wrapped the stump with the gauze he found in a first aid kit under the sink in the kitchen.

   


He felt lighter on his left side- it threw him off balance as he ran with the duffel bag slung over his right shoulder. Bucky had to slow down when he reached the city limits sign.

   


He leaned up on the pole, catching his breath. His shoulder hurt like hell, both of them. Bucky looked back at the town and sighed, Steve was still in the kitchen, knocked out. Bucky dug into the duffel bag, pulling out the photo he took from the kitchen counter.

   


Steve didn’t notice that Bucky had put their wedding photo out. So much had changed since that day five years ago, Bucky remembered when the government issued the virus warning.

   


They both had changed since then. And if Steve was shutting himself in that room for weeks on end because he changed, then it was bullshit. Bucky had changed too, in more ways than one.    
  


If only they  talked or  did something other than yell at each other and get worked up. Maybe if they had worked this out, Steve would be beside Bucky.

Bucky walked the rest of the way to his Jeep parked outside of town. It felt like it had only been yesterday since he parked it there, going back only for the photo of his wedding day. When he got to the Jeep, he set his bag down and tried to open the door. And of  course , he forgot is was locked.  

Bucky sighed and went fishing in his duffel, looking for the damn keys. Where the hell were t he keys? Then Bucky remembered; he left them on the kitchen counter. Bucky made a frustrated noise and kicked his bag, which rolled under the Jeep. 

“Why?!” Bucky yelled to no one. He spun around and accidentally hit his stump on the mirror, making him scream in agony. Bucky slid down the side of the Jeep, his right-hand gently caressing the residual limb. 

Bucky didn’t notice the person sneaking up from the forest, hiding on the other side of the Jeep with a bag in hand. The bag went over Bucky’s head suddenly, he struggled for a moment before someone knocked him out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the confusion of posting the last chapter twice! Thank you, lordelannette for pointing that out! Here is the actual chapter, and again, I am so sorry for the confusion earlier! As always, no spoilers to Endgame, and comments and kudos keep me posting! At this point I don’t think I’m posting on a schedule, but I’ll try to get a chapter out within a week or sooner.
> 
> WARNINGS: Mentions of sexual abuse, torture, harassment, amnesia, language, and ANGST ANGST ANGST

 

“Natasha, I fucked up!” Steve yelled when he spotted her. Natasha looked bored, sitting casually on a bench on Main Street.  

 

 

“Yeah, no shit,” Natasha drawled. Steve sat down next to her; he noticed for the first time that her right hand was missing a few fingers. “You let Bucky get kidnapped.”  

 

 

“Wait, I what?!” Steve jumped back up again. Natasha sighed and examined the fingernails that were left on her hand. “How the hell do you know that?!” 

 

 

“I watched your boy leave town- he looked pretty shaken up,” Natasha said. “He got to his car and someone put a bag over his head. Boom, done, grown man minus an arm kidnapped. Next?” 

 

 

“Why didn’t you do anything?!”  “Have you noticed that I’m missing three fingers?! I tried my damnedest, but I couldn’t fully lose control without killing your boy!”  

 

 

“Fucking shit!” Steve pulled at his hair, frustrated. “Why? Why? Why?” 

 

 

“Any hope for that threesome? I just thought I’d ask, since it sounded like you guys had an argument.” 

 

 

“Natasha,” Steve sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why the hell would a threesome help?” 

 

 

“It relieves stress and builds bonds in relationships.”  “Wow... you had than answer prepared- did not expect that.” 

 

 

“Threesomes, they work wonders- try em’ before you die.”

 

 

Steve shook his head.  “We can talk about that later, but I need your help,” Steve said. “Oh god, Bucky’s probably scared out of his mind right now.”  “You underestimate your husband,” Natasha said bluntly. 

 

 

“Where do you see him last?” Steve asked.

 

 

“Did you know your husband has a Jeep? I mean, I didn’t see him as a Jeep guy, but-“

 

 

“Natasha!”

 

 

“Right outside of town,” Natasha replied. Steve huffed and started to walk back to the house. “Where are you going?” Natasha called after him.

 

 

“I’m getting something before I go find my husband,” Steve called back. Natasha spring up and ran after him.

 

 

“Wait, I want to come too!”  

 

 

[~^~]  

 

 

Y’know when you open your eyes, and everything hurts for a moment? That’s what Bucky felt when he opened his eyes.

He was also somewhat cold, a teenager was the only warmth he had, and she was snuggled up against him, in his arms. Well, arm. The stump didn’t hurt as bad as before. Her white hair was striking against the bleak concrete floor. She stirred when Bucky shifted slightly. The girl’s eyes popped open suddenly, revealing a striking blue color that was so unnatural they glowed. She pulled back from him, making a noise of distress, before propping herself up on her arms.  

 

 

“Who the hell are you?” She asked. Bucky opened his mouth to answer, but then she interrupted. “You’re a Handler, aren’t you? You, sick bastard, sleeping with me only to get into my pants!” She accused. 

 

 

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Bucky said. “That’s sick, I’d never do that. I’m married anyways.”

 

 

“Yeah right,” she grumbled. “You don’ have a ring.”

 

 

“Of course, I hav- “Bucky stopped mid-sentence, suddenly remembering his left arm. “Dammit!”

 

 

“Liar,” she sang accusingly, arms folded.

 

 

“And I’m gay,” Bucky sang back. She stopped, momentarily startled.

 

 

“That- that actually makes a lot of sense,” she mumbled. “Well damn, I blew that.”

 

 

“What?”  “You were a potential friend, and now there’s a slim chance of that happening.”

 

 

“We can still be friends, just live, learn and move on.”   “That your life motto or something?”

 

 

“Are you kidding? My husband got mad at me for leaving the toilet seat up a few years back- I can’t even move on from that.”

 

 

“Okay, TMI, but whatever,” she said. “We can still be friends though, please?”

 

 

“Of course,” Bucky smiled. “I’m Bucky.”

 

 

“K0B197.”

 

 

“What?”

 

 

“My name is K0B197,” she sighed. “It’s a shitty name, but it’s what they call me.”

 

 

“Yeah, I’m not calling you that,” Bucky said. “I’m calling you Kobik.”

 

 

“Koh-Bee?”

 

 

“It’s better than K0B183.” Bucky shrugged.

 

 

“197, but whatever.”

 

 

They sat in silence for a moment, the sound of water dripping the only sound between them. Bucky could tell that Kobik wanted to ask him a question, some part of him knew it’d be about his arm.

 

 

“What was your husband like?” She finally asked. That caught Bucky by surprise, he was sure she was going to ask him about his missing limb.

 

 

“He was the most beautiful man in the world,” Bucky said. “Very kind, but he was always getting his ass in danger. That’s how he died.” Kobik studied Bucky for a moment before sighing, her shoulders falling a few inches.   

 

 

“He came back, didn’t he,” she stated. “I did too.” Bucky looked up at Kobik, confused. She held up her hands in defense. “Don’t worry, I’m not contagious anymore- I’m immune. It’s why my hair is white and all that.”  

 

 

“Is- is immunity possible?” Bucky asked, astonished.   

 

 

“How do you think the government survived? Hide-and-seek?” She wise-cracked. “I’ve been an experiment all my life, from the moment they first exposed me to the virus, they worked on a serum to reverse the effects. It also made the person immune. And the side effects, oh, they were awful. Vomiting, bloody noses, physical changes-“ Kobik fluffed her snow-white hair. “And death. I was one of the lucky ones who survived.” 

 

 

“There’s more?”  

 

 

“There were. Now there’s only five of us- six including you.” Bucky blinked as he processed her words. “They kidnapped you for a reason. Test subjects are running out- might as well take someone who’s already exposed.”  

 

 

“Oh god.”  

 

 

Footsteps echoed through the cell- Bucky assumed it was a cell anyways, he was surrounded by metal bars. Conclusion- in a cell.   

 

 

“Follow my lead,” Kobik’s voice turned to a whisper as she shuffled to a side of the cell and keeled there, her head down and hands behind her back. Bucky quickly copied her actions. His long hair swung around the outside of is vision as the footsteps got closer, finally stopping in front on the cell he was in.   

 

 

A squeak gave away to an open door, and two guards came in to grab both Kobik and Bucky. Kobik didn’t struggle against their grasp, and instead let her guard push her around and lead her. At one-point Bucky spied the guard snaking his hand up Kobik’s shirt, which made Kobik flinch and grit her teeth. She kept quiet.   

 

 

Bucky was so busy watching Kobik’s guard with shock, that he didn’t see that his guard eyeing him. Bucky felt the guard’s hand grab him, and he let out a yelp.   

 

 

“What the fuck, man?” Bucky shook the guard’s hand off. The guard sneered, his hand going back to Bucky’s package. “Stop!” The guard’s smirk dropped. The death-grip on Bucky’s right arm wavered for a moment, then guard released him. Before Bucky could do anything, the guard kicked him in the stomach, making Bucky double over.  

 

 

Kobik watched with inhuman silence. Pain and horror etched in her face.

 

 

The guard grabbed Bucky’s residual limb, making him hiss in pain as the guard dragged him back onto his feet. The guard pushed Bucky forward, continuing their walk down the corridor.

 

 

_“Please don’t try to do that again. I don’t want them to hurt you.”_

 

“Kobik?!” Bucky turned to Kobik, startled. He could have sworn he just heard her talk to him.

 

 

“Quiet!” One of the guards snapped. The guards slapped both Bucky and Kobik up the head.

 

 

_“I’m not talking. At least, out loud. This is one of the side effects. Mental communication, I guess. That’s what PTR783 calls it.”_

 

Bucky processed her words- or, her thoughts for that matter. He tried to say something back to Kobik in his mind, but she never responded.

 

 

They reached the end of the corridor, where Bucky’s guard pushed open a door and shoved both him and Kobik inside. The door closed, washing to room in darkness.

 

 

“Kobik?” Bucky finally said.

 

 

“Yeah?”

 

 

“Don’t talk,” a different voice sounded through the room, strict and far-off. The voice spoke again. “K0B197. Stand and illuminate.”

 

 

“Yes sir,” Kobik muttered. Bucky heard shuffling, then a slow glow started to illuminate the room. It took Bucky too long to realize the glow was coming from Kobik.

 

 

“Mister- sir. Stand at attention.” Bucky snapped his head towards where the sound was coming from. Bucky deducted that the voice was coming from a speaker in the wall. The voice paused, then continued. “Thank you both for being here, please stay still for the remainder of your time- we will proceed.” There was a click, and then silence.

 

 

“What’s going to happen?” Bucky asked Kobik, turning his head towards her.

 

 

_“Stay still,”_ She replied bluntly, like an order. Bucky stiffened, sucking in a breath. They waited for the few antagonizing minutes that ticked by. Finally, a low hum emitted from a corner of the room.

 

 

_“Stay still, Bucky. This’ll be over before you know it.”_

 

 

Bright suddenly light pulsed through the room, making everything look spotty and slow. Bucky watched as Kobik robotically doubled over, holding her head and screaming. Bucky’s eyes widened is terror as white-hot sparks emitted from Kobik, messily spilling around her.

 

 

The sparks got more violent, zaps of electricity connected from Kobik’s back to the ceiling, making her scream in agony. Bucky couldn’t help himself- he had to help her.

 

 

“Kobik!” Bucky moves from his spot on the floor, and one of the currents from Kobik moved automatically toward him, striking him in the chest. The electricity was powerful enough to knock him back to the wall, smashing him into the metal.

 

 

Bucky still felt the electricity running through his veins, his vision blurring and filling with black spots. Another current moved from Kobik to Bucky, lighting quick, striking him between the eyes.

 

 

[~^~]

 

 

“It’s his car all right,” Steve said, pulling the duffel bag out from under the Jeep. He fished the keys out of his pocket, pressing unlock. A barely audible click came from the Jeep, a way of letting Steve know that it was unlocked.

 

 

Steve opened the door and climbed in the driver’s side. Instantly, his nose caught the smell of Bucky. It made him miss Bucky more, it also made him worry more.

 

 

If only they talked everything out. Bucky was in danger- again- because of Steve. Steve couldn’t escape danger, and it was contagious.

 

 

“Steve?” Steve looked out from the passenger window, his jaw dropped in a mix of hope and astonishment. He climbed out and joined Natasha on the passenger side of the car, the side that faced the side of the road into the woods.

 

 

“Oh my god,” Steve whispered. The long grass on the side of the road was bent and broken in a path, leading into the Washington wilderness. Steve walked down the path in a trance, when he was at the start of the woods, Natasha grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

 

 

“Steve, no,” she said. “Not without your bag,” she pushed his bag into his arms, then let him go.

 

 

Natasha watched as Steve disappeared into the thick wilderness. Once he was gone, she took a look back at the road leading toward Loon Lake, then looked the other way towards the rest of Washington.

 

 

Natasha didn’t look back when she started walking towards Spokane.

 

 

[~^~]

 

 

“Bucky?” His head throbbed. But he opened his eyes anyways, and was met with the vision of a young angel.

 

 

“Hey Bucky,” The angel smiled. Her striking blue eyes were electric and full of life- her entire body glowed. “You’re okay now.”

 

 

Who was this Bucky person?

 

 

He must have done something wrong, since the angel’s smile faded. She brushed a strand of hair away from his face.

 

 

“What’s wrong?” She asked. He looked around, suddenly aware of his bleak surroundings. Was this heaven? A concrete cell and a teenage angel?

 

 

“Who the hell is Bucky?” He asked. The angel parted her mouth, worry streaked along her expression.

 

 

“What’s your name, soldier?” She asked, sadness in her tone.

 

 

“BCY325. It’s not much of a name, but it’s what they call me.”

 

 

“Can I call you Bucky? You can call me Kobik,” the angel said. Her expression was breaking, the mask was falling. “We can be friends...”

 

 

The angel- Kobik- buried herself in BCY’s arms, sobs quiet and muffled. His metal arm clicked around her small frame, something about the arm itself didn’t seem right, like it didn’t belong there. But it had always been there- hadn’t it?

 

 

“We can be friends,” BCY said. He stroked her long white hair, an effort to soothe the angel. “We can be friends.”

 

 

Something about BCY’s left hand was off. It felt like it was missing something, the silver metal missing a golden band on the ring finger. But BCY had no memory of ever loving someone, except maybe the angel, as a daughter.

 

 

However, his left hand still felt bare, missing the love of someone who’s name was lost at the moment. But this must have just been fantasy, for BCY had been one of their experiments all his life.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty! Another chapter posted! Thank you everyone so far who has commented/liked this fic, and a special thank you to the routine-commenters out there! Your feedback gives me motivation for writing this fic. More flashbacks will be included as this progresses- those flashbacks will make up most of the fluff for this fic. 
> 
> WARNINGS: Torture by sound, Young Steve Rogers being an idiot and Bucky having his back, description of blood and injuries, high school stereotypes, French

Steve looked around the wilderness, he lost Bucky’s trail ages ago. The minute he walked into the woods; Steve spotted tire tracks from an ATV- which he followed. However, those tire tracks disappeared maybe a few hundred feet back.

 

 

Steve sat down on a fallen log and sighed. The sunlight was dwindling, soon night would fall, and Steve would be in the dark. He didn’t have a tent, and he doubted he could build a sufficient shelter.

 

 

He didn’t need a shelter anyways, he was dead. Steve would probably be fine if he slept on the ground, it’s not like anyone would kill him. No one was around, and the nail in the coffin was that he was dead.

 

 

Half-dead. It was like bisexuality- neither straight nor gay.

 

 

The sun had dropped faster than anticipated, certain spots were being cast in a blue glow, and everywhere else there was a golden hue. Maybe it’d be a good idea to stop here for the night and camp out. Steve got up to find firewood for a fire, maybe he’d cook a can of beans or something, and then he could at least try to make a shelter…

 

 

Steve stopped moving about and remind himself that he didn’t need any of that stuff. He could survive without food, and the shelter had no purpose unless it rained, even then shelter didn’t matter. The only thing that Steve needed, was sleep- but he wasn’t even sure of that.

 

 

The last rays of sunlight streaked across the ground at Steve’s feet. He sat down in the sun, taking in the last bits of the day’s warmth. Steve got bored after a while of sitting, and he ended up tracing the blue veins on the back of his hands and arms. He didn’t know how Bucky wasn’t revolted by the sight of his sickly appearance.

 

 

Steve turned to his duffel and unzipped it. He first pulled his wedding photo out of the side pocket of the bag, then Bucky’s wedding ring. Steve didn’t even realize that Bucky had grabbed that photo from their home when they originally fled years earlier. Steve smiled fondly at the photo, that day still continued to be the best day of his life, hands down.

 

 

He turned his attention to Bucky’s ring, the smile on his face turning to a sad frown. He ran his finger along the words that were engraved in the metal. Steve had the same words engraved in his ring. Both rings had three diamonds, arranged differently.

 

 

Steve dug a string out of the bag, threading Bucky’s ring and tying a knot so it looped closed. Steve then held the ring up in the final glint of sunlight. He remembered the promise he made to Bucky when they reunited weeks ago. Steve promised to not let go of Bucky.

 

 

“I won’t let go of you, Bucky,” Steve said. “I promise.” 

 

 

[~^~]

 

 

_“I now pronounce you husband and husband,” The pastor smiled. Bucky turned to Steve excitedly, squeezing his hand and planting a kiss on Steve’s cheek. Steve turned his head and caught Bucky’s lips with his, going in for a full kiss- not one on the cheek._

 

_“Smile!” Steve and Bucky pulled away to smile at the photographer. They leaned in close together, smiling as the shutter clicked. “Make a heart with your hands,” the photographer instructed. Bucky and Steve each made a half of a heart with one hand, joining them together. “Yeah, like that- perfect!”_

 

_The shutter clicked again, and then the photographer was gone. Steve wrapped his arm around Bucky, burying his face his hair. Some strands had escaped from the low ponytail, hanging down and framing Bucky’s face. Bucky’s hand gently brushed over the light stubble on Steve’s jaw._

 

_“Are you gonna grow a beard now?” Bucky chuckled. Steve shrugged, he laid his hand on top of Bucky’s, tracing circles._

 

_“Probably not,” Steve said. Bucky made a pouty face, which got a smirk out of Steve. “I’ll think about it,” Steve smirked. A hand came down on Steve’s shoulder, Steve turned to find Tony Stark. He instantly lit up when he saw Tony._

 

_“Tony, thank you for making our rings,” Steve said. “It means so much to us.”_

 

_“Ah, no problem Capsicle,” Tony waved his hand like it was no big deal._

 

_“Still, thank you,” Bucky chimed in. “If there’s anything we can do…”_

 

_“Can I get that in writing?” Tony joked. “No, it’s fine- I wanted to test out some new equipment anyways.”_

 

_“Still, it means a lot,” Steve said. Tony patted Steve’s shoulder, an absent smile on his face._

 

_“So, when’s your wedding?” Bucky asked._

 

_“Hopefully soon,” Tony replied. “Pepper and I are just waiting for the right time.” Tony’s adopted son, Peter, appeared next to Tony._

 

_“Congratulations,” Peter said to Steve and Bucky. He then turned to Tony. “Pepper says she needs you,” he said to Tony._

 

_“Alright, I’ll be right there,” Tony said. Peter disappeared into the party. “Well, I’ll be on my way, and hopefully I’ll see you at my wedding.”_

 

_“Count on it,” Steve said. Tony waved as he walked away, once he was out of earshot, Bucky turned to Steve._

 

_“Hey husband,” Bucky smirked. A smile bloomed on Steve’s lips. “You still haven’t told me where we’re going for our honeymoon.”_

 

_“Oh, you’ll see soon enough.”_

 

 

[~^~]

 

 

BCY flinched as the scientists and doctors moved around him, sticking needles into his arm and monitoring his brain activity. They said nothing to him, acting like he was nothing more than an object and that he couldn’t speak for himself.

 

 

Kobik sat on the table next to him, staying as still as BCY was. There were four other tables in the room, all of them had someone sitting on them. Each person was different- a different experiment. BCY hated it.

 

“Up,” The scientist said to him. He got up from the table and was led out of the room, down a hall. He was shoved into a glass cell, suddenly BCY understood why the fish in pet stores always hid.

 

How the hell did he know that? BCY was sure he had never been to a pet store in his life.

 

The scientists outside the fishbowl were moving their mouths, BCY had no idea what they were saying. There were three of them, all standing behind a control module connected to one side of the fishbowl. One scientist flicked a switch on the panel, and a loud crackling sound emitted through the fishbowl.

 

“BCY325,” the scientist had turned on an intercom. “Sit down.” BCY did as he was told, sitting down in the middle of the fishbowl with his legs crossed. Metal cuffs came out of the floor, snapping around his ankles.

 

“Hands on the floor.”

 

BCY put his hands on the floor, and two more cuffs snapped around his wrists. The scientists outside of the fishbowl pressed a few buttons on the panel, conversing with themselves.

 

BCY heard the intercom turn off. One of the scientists knocked on the glass, which got BCY’s attention. When he looked up, the scientist moved back to the control panel and gave the others a thumbs-up.

 

A high-pitched noise sounded through the fishbowl, making BCY cringe. Instinctively, his hands went to his ears, but they were being held down. The noise continued, getting louder and echoing off the glass- if that was even possible.

 

BCY screamed, the noise pulsing with him, he felt it match his heart beat, then it got faster. His pulse followed the beat of the noise, getting faster and slower continuously. This went of for too long, BCY’s heartstrings pulling and stretching. His brain twisting from the loudness of the noise.

 

The noise stopped suddenly, and somehow- BCY’s heart stopped too.

 

But... he kept breathing.

 

The scientists outside of the fishbowl turned and talked with each other. The stark silence gave BCY the illusion of hearing the scientists converse and point to their control monitor.

 

BCY’s chest was starting to ache. He looked down at his shirt, eyes widening when he saw blood spreading on the white cotton.

 

His eyes moved to the scientists, who had noticed the blood coming from BCY’s chest. But instead of freaking out, they just took notes and stayed calm.

 

It donned on BCY that maybe they were monitoring their work, _and_ his reaction. A scientist held up five fingers, they put one down after a second passed, then another, then another...

 

Five seconds passed and the noise started again, BCY felt his heart beat for the first time since the beat stopped. The blood had stopped spreading too, it was now drying on BCY’s chest, cotton shirt getting stiff.

 

The intercom cackled to life, startling BCY. The metal cuffs around BCY’s wrists and ankles disappeared.

 

“Stand up,” the intercom instructed. BCY stood up, and a panel opened from the side of the fishbowl, letting him out. A guard grabbed him by both arms, leading him back to the cell he’d call home.

 

 

[~^~]

 

 

Steve awoke when he felt something tap his palm. He groaned and rolled over, getting a face-full of dirt. Right, he was in a forest. Steve sat up, looking around for whoever tapped him.

 

“Oh,” Steve held up his hand. “Well that’s new.” An arrow was pierced through Steve’s hand, blood running down his forearm and onto the ground. So that was what had “tapped” him.

 

“Who the-“

 

“Steve?!” Steve looked from his hand and gasped, recognizing the person in front of him instantly.

 

“Tony Stark... you can shoot a bow and arrow?”

 

“Steven Barnes-Rogers... you didn’t survive the apocalypse?” Tony countered. Tony waved his hand behind him, a tree rustled, and someone dropped out of it.

 

“I’m surprised you were brave enough to approach me without a weapon,” Steve said while getting up.

 

“No, I have a weapon- he’s just concealed,” Tony pointed behind him, which gave way to an unfamiliar face. “This is Clint.”

 

Clint still had his bow and arrow drawn and pointed at Steve. Personally, Steve felt attacked- then he remembered he was dead, and he could kill Tony and Clint in an instant.

 

“You can put that down, Barton,” Tony said. “Steve’s not going to do anything.”

 

“I disagree,” Both Steve and Clint said at the same time. Steve gestured to Clint, to emphasize his point.

 

“Zombie Instinct, it’s a bitch,” Clint said.

 

“See? Listen to the arrow guy,” Steve nodded. Tony sighed heavily and shook his head.

 

“Alright, fine. Whatever,” Tony sighed. “So-“ Tony rubbed his hands together. “-where’s the Buckaroo?”

 

Steve felt himself shut down. The string of the bow made a thwack, and an arrow was suddenly protruding from Steve’s chest. Tony let out a noise of distress, and turned to Clint. Steve stayed silent, his gaze lost in the distance.

 

“I got him kidnapped,” Steve finally said.

 

“Kidnapped?” Clint surprised Steve by putting his bow down, which already had another arrow drawn. “You mean like-“

 

“Shut up Clint,” Tony snapped. Tony took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his neck. He then turned to Steve with a smile. “How about I bring you back to my place, we can work on finding your boy there.”

 

“Um, sure,” Steve said. “That’s very kind of you, Tony.”

 

“Well it’s better than sleeping on the ground, like an animal. We have a ton of pizza too,” Tony said. Steve and Clint stared at Tony. “Well c’mon, it takes a bit to get there.”

 

“Right behind you, Tony,” Clint said, falling into step behind Tony. He stopped and sashayed aside so Steve could go ahead of him.

 

Steve followed Tony through the woods, two arrows still stuck in his body and a duffel slung over his shoulder.

 

 

[~^~]

 

 

_Was is a good idea to throw a party during homecoming week? No, it was not. And it wasn’t even Bucky Who threw the party- although that’s what people expected. The quarter back was expected to throw huge parties full of alcohol and drugs. In reality it was Bucky’s younger sister, Becca, who threw the party._

 

_To be fair- it did start out as a dungeons and dragons club meeting. Then someone found out it was being held at the quarterback’s house and they assumed “Hey! A party!” That’s how Bucky found himself in his room while loud bass played downstairs. Contrary to popular belief, Bucky hated parties and people._

 

_Bucky had planned to stay in his room for the night, building a blanket fort and sleeping it in cause why the fuck not. This plan did not differ on account of the party happening downstairs._

 

_It was a surprise that no one had bothered him, no one had barged into his room looking for a place to lose their virginity. No one had knocked on his door to get the QB involved in a round of beer pong._

 

_He was alone, and he liked that. Just him, the blanket fort, and a good book._

 

_It was like that until around twelve pm, when someone rushed into Bucky’s room suddenly._

 

_Bucky peeked his head out of the fort to see a tiny blonde guy, his face red. Bucky raised an eyebrow at the guy, who was panting._

 

_“Sorry,” he breathed. “I just needed a place to hide.” Bucky stared at the guy in silence. Sweat glistened from his forehead and bony shoulders, which were exposed by the loose black t-shirt the guy wore._

 

_The fact that Bucky found the guy to be cute was baffling to him- he was a skinny goth nobody who probably smoked weed. And yet Bucky still found him attractive. And not just kind of attractive, Bucky found him to be really attractive._

 

_“Are you wearing make-up?” Bucky asked finally, noting the guy’s use of red lipstick and eyeshadow._

 

_“It makes me look gayer, yeah I know,” the guy said. Bucky was positive this guy was in one of his classes, he looked so familiar. The guy must have noticed this too._ _“Were you in Ms. Hill’s fourth period chemistry class last year?”_

_“Um, yeah- I’m in it this year too.”_

_“You’re re-taking the course?”_

_“I guess, it’s my elective. I like chemistry too much,” Bucky said. He moved a little farther out of his blanket fort._

_“Well you might not remember me, but I’m Steve Rogers- we were lab partners once,” The guy said, moving closer to Bucky. So that’s where Bucky knee him from._

_“Nice to meet you again, Steve,” Bucky said. “I’m Bucky.”_

_“Yeah, I know. You’re the school’s QB,” Steve observed. Bucky groaned and fell back into his fort, then quickly sat back up._

_“Everyone knows me from that,” he groaned. A knock came from Bucky’s door, making Steve jump. Steve moves quick, sliding past Bucky and into his blanket fort. As soon as Steve was inside the fort, the door opened._

_“Oh, hey Bucky,” Brock Rumlow, the Captain of the football team, stood at the door. “I’m looking for someone, his name is Steve and he punched me a while ago, have you seen him?”_

_“Yeah, I saw him,” Bucky said. He felt Steve freeze inside the fort. “He went into our backyard and hopped the fence.”_

_“Alright, thanks,” Bock nodded. He closed the door. Bucky heard Brock’s footsteps pound down the stairs. When he was gone, both Steve and Bucky let out a breath._

_“Thanks for helping me,” Steve said from inside the fort. Bucky waved his hand like it was no big deal._

_“Brock’s a douche, I’m sure you have your reasons to punch him,” Bucky shrugged. The silence between them was comfortable, then Steve got up and exited the fort._

_“I should go,” Steve said. Bucky didn’t think._

_“Wait!”_

_Steve turned, staring back at Bucky with a hopeful expression._

Did I say that out loud? _Bucky thought._

_“How about you stay here- until Brock leaves,” Bucky offered. “It’s safer,” he added. Bucky wanted Steve to stay with him. There was something about Steve’s small frame that made Bucky want to hold him close._

_“Well, if that’s alright with you,” Steve said, walking back to the fort. He stopped right outside of it, looking down at Bucky. Bucky smirked and grabbed Steve by the waist, pulling him down and into the fort._

_“There’s plenty of room in my arms,” Bucky winked. “If that’s alright with you.”_

_“So that’s how you’re going to play this,” Steve smirked._

_“Play what?” Bucky asked innocently. “I’m not playing when I spot a guy like you.”_

_“That’s gay, Bucky,” Steve said._

_“I’m glad you see that,” Bucky jeered. Steve shook his head, but climbed into Bucky’s arms anyways. Steve fit well with Bucky’s arms wrapped around him._

_“The QB’s a gay romantic, who would have thought,” Steve joked. Bucky couldn’t help himself but bury his face into Steve’s neck and breathe him in. Bucky was pretty sure that’s what boyfriends did, not what half-strangers/lab partners did. But anyone could become boyfriend and boyfriend._

_And maybe Bucky was being dumb, maybe Steve wasn’t gay and was humoring Bucky. God, he hoped not. Steve didn’t move away from Bucky, though, they just held onto each other. They fell asleep like that, hearts beating in sync, not letting go._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But where is the French you might ask?
> 
> Well... you have been warned... AVERT YOUR EYES IF YOU OR A LOVED ONE IS SENSITVE TO FRENCH
> 
> Tony et Clint sont les rois de la pizza. Va te faire foutre, mange de la pizza.
> 
> *Sirens in the distance, Washington gets flooded with baguettes*
> 
> A French man: Ah, oui. Excellente

**Author's Note:**

> Okay... so it gets better, don't worry!


End file.
